Three Shorts and a Drabble
by Kate P
Summary: Three short stories about the Cartwright family


THESE STORIES ARE WRITTEN FOR PLEASURE, NOT PROFIT, AND ARE NOT INTENDED TO INFRINGE ON ANY KNOWN COPYRIGHT  
  
  
  
  
  
THREE SHORTS AND A DRABBLE  
  
  
  
A Trio of Bonanza Stories by Kate Pitts  
  
  
  
These three short stories were posted here separately until a review made me take a look at them and I realised that they'd loaded without the paragraphs showing, which made them difficult to read. I've double spaced it all now so hopefully it should load correctly.  
  
  
  
One: 'A Real Brother' - in which a young Joe wonders about family love:  
  
  
  
Young Joe Cartwright and his friend Orrin Jacobs settled down by the still waters of the lake, relaxing in the sunshine. Beside them Johnny Chapman looked up with a grin, he'd already started fishing while he waited for the other two boys to join him. The three eleven year olds were enjoying a rare Tuesday afternoon of freedom, normally they would have been in school at this time of day but their teacher, Miss Jones, had been feeling unwell and, with no replacement available, had reluctantly dismissed her pupils early. Joe and Orrin had ridden out to the Ponderosa and, finding nobody home, had collected fishing poles and headed down to the lake to join Johnny for an afternoon's fishing.  
  
"Hope Miss Jones is still ill tomorrow." Johnny said as he pulled his line in and gently unhooked the wriggling, silver-scaled trout that was attached to the end of it. "This is much better than school."  
  
"Sure is." Joe agreed, poking his finger into the small tub of squirming pink worms that Johnny had brought to use as bait, looking for the fattest, juiciest one. "Don't you think so, Orrin?"  
  
"I guess." Orrin answered miserably, not looking up from where he was threading a worm onto his line. "Beats goin' home anyway."  
  
"What's wrong with going home?" Joe asked curiously. "Thought you liked it fine since your Pa got married again."  
  
"That's the trouble, Sue Anne's gonna have a baby!" The disgusted tone of Orrin's voice as he made this announcement caused both of his friends to stare at him in surprise.  
  
"Don't you want a baby brother or sister?" Asked Johnny, looking up from admiring his catch to study Orrin's unhappy looking face. "Be nice to be a big brother and get to tell someone what to do the way Jakey does you."  
  
"Won't be a brother or sister will it?" Orrin stated abruptly, gazing out at the smooth waters of the lake, the spring sunshine glinting on its calm surface.  
  
"How come?" Joe looked at him with a puzzled frown, not understanding what the other boy meant. "Babies only come in two sorts."  
  
"I don't mean that." Throwing down his fishing pole, Orrin picked up a flat pebble from the edge of the water. With a deft touch he set the stone skimming across the surface and grinned slightly as he counted five bounces.  
  
"Then what do you mean?" Johnny asked, his eyes on the ripples that were spreading out from the spot that the stone had submerged. "And don't skim stones, it'll scare the fish."  
  
"I mean it'll only be a half brother or sister." Orrin explained. "Half of it belongs to Sue Anne, might even turn out to look like her."  
  
"It'll still be your family." Joe said, impaling a worm on his hook and casting the line into the water. "My brothers had different mothers than me."  
  
"Did they?" Johnny looked at Joe with interest. "I guess that's why you don't look much like them."  
  
"I 'spose not." Half watching his line, hoping for a fish to bite, Joe considered Johnny's words. "You know those pictures on my Pa's desk?" He asked and his friends nodded. "That's my Ma, Hoss' and Adam's Ma's."  
  
"So you know what I mean?" Orrin picked up his pole again and came to sit beside Joe. "You and your half-brothers are real different. You don't look alike or act alike, you don't even get on with Adam. It's not like with me and Jakey, he's my real brother, blood brother."  
  
"I get on fine with Hoss." Joe pointed out, a little unsettled by Orrin's way of thinking. "And it's all right with Adam most of the time, he's just a bit bossy is all. Anyway my Pa says we're real brothers, even though we got different Ma's."  
  
"But 'spose my Pa likes this baby more than he likes me and Jakey?" Orrin asked disconsolately. "Sometimes I think he loves Sue Ann more than he did Ma."  
  
"It'll be fine." Johnny put in, casting his line again and obviously growing bored of his friend's conversation. "Let's just fish, guys."  
  
"Which of you does your Pa like best?" Ignoring Johnny, Orrin bent closer to whisper in Joe's ear. "Which of your Ma's did he love most?"  
  
Joe was saved from replying when a tug on his line sent him excitedly to his feet and pulling in a fish, but as the boys headed for home that evening he found himself thinking of Orrin's question. In all his eleven years he'd never really thought of Hoss or Adam as just being half brothers, though of course he knew they were. He wondered if Orrin could possibly be right, did Pa like one of them more than the others because he'd loved their mother the most?  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Engrossed in his bookkeeping that evening, Ben was surprised when Joe came to stand quietly beside him and watch as he added the columns of figures. After fifteen minutes or so the boy's unnatural silence began to niggle at Ben and he laid his pen aside and closed the book. "Those trout you caught made a mighty fine supper." He remarked after a while, as his young son remained silent. "And I'm sure Hoss and Adam enjoyed them as much as I did."  
  
"Mmmm." Joe barely acknowledged the words, his attention now fixed on the three portraits in silver frames that stood atop his father's desk.  
  
"Did the other boys catch as many fish as you?" Ben asked, trying to get some response from his son.  
  
"'Bout the same." Joe shrugged and reached out a hand towards his mother's portrait, stopping before he picked it up and turning an enquiring look on his father, who nodded his permission. "Mama sure was pretty." He observed, holding the picture and studying it closely. "Wasn't she, Pa?"  
  
"Yes, she was." Ben replied simply, following his son's gaze and smiling tenderly at the likeness of his third wife.  
  
Gently, Joe touched the glass that covered the portrait and Ben waited patiently. It was obvious that the boy had more to say but his father knew that he shouldn't press. Joe would get round to what he wanted to ask in his own time.  
  
Looking up at last, Joe turned his attention to the other two pictures. "They were pretty too." He said softly. Ben nodded in reply, wondering where this was leading.  
  
"Not as pretty as Mama, though." The boy declared, putting Marie's portrait carefully back in its place. "Were they?" He asked, looking at his father almost anxiously.  
  
"They were all beautiful." Ben told him, looking at his wives faces. "And all very special."  
  
"Really?" Joe bit his lip in thought, a frown creasing his brow. "Did you love them all, Pa?"  
  
Ben looked at the boy sharply, the question taking him by surprise. "Of course I did."  
  
"But was one of them your favourite?" Joe pressed, Orrin's question nagging at him. "I mean they were all so." He looked at the faces of the three women. "So different."  
  
Pushing his chair back and getting to his feet, Ben put a hand on Joe's shoulder. "Come over and sit by the fire, son." He said quietly. "And tell me what this is all about."  
  
Settling himself down on the couch beside his father, Joe related what he and Orrin had talked about on their fishing trip while Ben listened intently, nodding his understanding. "So do you agree with Orrin, do you think I have a favourite son?" He asked eventually as Joe finished his story. "Is that it?"  
  
"I don't know." Joe confessed, looking down at his hands and avoiding his father's gaze. "Do you, Pa?"  
  
Ben shook his head firmly. "No."  
  
"But what about our Ma's." Joe persisted. "Did you love one of them more than the others?"  
  
Ben shook his head again. "No." He repeated. "I loved each of them with all of my heart."  
  
"Are you sure?" Joe asked uncertainly. "I mean, surely you couldn't have."  
  
"And why not?" Ben asked him, putting an arm around the boy and pulling him closer. "Let me ask you a question, Joseph, do you have favourites?"  
  
"Well, my Mama is my favourite." The boy responded, confused as to what his father meant. "And I know she would be even if I knew Adam and Hoss' mothers."  
  
"That's understandable." Ben said, chuckling a little at Joe's logic. "Though you realise if Adam and Hoss' Mama's hadn't died you wouldn't have been around to know them."  
  
"So did you only marry Mama because Hoss' mother died?" Joe sounded disappointed at the thought. "Not because you loved her more?"  
  
"Oh, Joe." Ben sighed, trying to find the words to explain how he felt. "It's not as simple as that. I loved Adam's mother, Elizabeth, very much. She was a lot like Adam, you know, she loved books and music. She was intelligent and beautiful."  
  
Joe looked up at his father, noting the faraway expression in Ben's eyes. "So how come you stopped loving her and started to love Hoss' Ma?"  
  
"I never stopped loving her." Ben denied quickly. "Just as I've never stopped loving Inger or your Mama, there's room in my heart for them all." He looked down at the boy, thinking for a moment before asking. "You wanted to know if I have a favourite son, do you have a favourite brother?"  
  
"Hoss!" The boy avowed swiftly. "He's my favourite."  
  
"Truly?" Ben asked quietly, his dark brown eyes searching the child's face. "You love Hoss more than Adam?"  
  
"Well." Joe fell silent, thinking. Hoss was his best friend, his playmate, the brother he had the most fun with. On the other hand.Adam could be bossy but he showed him how to do things, helped him with his schoolwork and could always be relied on to help with any problems he had. To be without either of his brothers was unthinkable. Looking up at his father, Joe shook his head vigorously. "I love them both." He declared with certainty.  
  
"Even though they're so different?" Ben probed gently, hoping Joe would understand what he was trying to say.  
  
"Yes." Joe nodded, and grinned widely. "I guess that means you can love all three of us just the same, no favourites."  
  
Ben smiled his agreement and tousled the boy's hair. "No favourites." He agreed. "You're all three my sons and I love you all very much."  
  
"And it was the same with our Ma's." Joe said triumphantly. "You loved them all the same."  
  
"Exactly." Ben told him. "Can you understand that?"  
  
"Yes, sir!" The boy declared. "I'm gonna tell Orrin not to worry. His Pa will love him and Jakey and the new baby all the same and I just bet Orrin will love the new baby as well. He might only be his half-brother but he'll still be a real brother won't he?"  
  
"Yes, Joseph." Ben pulled his son to him in a hug. "Orrin will be a real brother to the baby, just as your brothers are to you. And." He added with a smile. "Isn't it about time you went out and helped them with the evening chores?"  
  
"I guess." Joe acknowledged, getting to his feet and going to put on his jacket. He glanced back at his father as he reached the door, thankful that he had talked to him and that Orrin had been wrong. Fears laid to rest, Joe ran happily off to join his brothers.  
  
  
  
Two: 'Before it's too late' - in which Joe accuses Adam of being uncaring:  
  
When Paul Martin straightened up from his examination of my father I could tell by the look on his face that the news wasn't going to be good, but his words left me feeling like someone had punched me hard in the gut. "I can't do any more for him, I'm afraid. It's in the hands of the Almighty now."  
  
I hadn't expected that. Somehow I'd thought Pa was invincible, that he'd live forever, though of course I knew that was really just wishful thinking. "Thank you for doing what you have." I managed to say as Paul started putting his instruments back in his bag. "I'll show you out."  
  
"There's no need, Adam." Paul gave me a sympathetic look as he left Pa's bedside and came over to me. "I know the way." Of course he did, Doctor Paul Martin had been our physician for some years now and was a good friend. Casting a last glance back at the bed, he shook my hand and left.  
  
I stayed where I was for a moment, still numb from Paul's prognosis. Over by the window my brother Hoss was standing, hands thrust deep into his pockets, eyes fixed on the floor. Beside the bed our youngest brother, Joe, had slipped onto the chair that the doctor had been using and was bent over our father, his shoulders slumped. I couldn't see his face but I could see how distraught he was by the way his restless hands twisted together as he sat there, staring down at Pa.  
  
"I'll sit with him a spell." I almost jumped when Hoss spoke, his voice sounded so loud in the silent room. "You two go on downstairs, get yourself a coffee or sumthin'."  
  
"I'm fine." Joe looked up for a moment and I could just see the glimmer of tears on his lashes. "You go if you like."  
  
"I'd kinda like a few minutes alone with Pa." Hoss said softly and I saw Joe close his eyes as though in pain before he nodded and got up, letting Hoss have the seat beside the bed.  
  
"I'll be back soon, Pa." I heard him whisper and he reached out a trembling hand and gently touched our father's face before turning away and brushing abruptly past me.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Following Joe downstairs a few moments later I found the great room empty but I could hear a clatter of metal from the kitchen and went through to find my brother banging the coffee pot down on the stove as though he was angry at the thing.  
  
"You want a cup?" He asked ungraciously seeing me come in and when I nodded he turned to get one from the dresser. Halfway there he stopped and groped for the edge of the table. Leaning heavily on it, he bent his head, shoulder's heaving as the tears that had threatened in our father's bedroom suddenly spilled forth.  
  
The sight brought a lump to my throat and I swallowed hard against it. "Joe, don't." I managed to get out, walking toward him.  
  
"What do you expect me to do?" Anger always seemed so close to the surface with Joe, especially where I was concerned, and it burst from him now as he looked up at me, eyes flashing fury through his tears. "Be like you? So cool and calm and collected when our father is dying upstairs. Don't you care? Don't you care at all that Pa will soon be.soon be." And he broke off, wrapping his arms around himself and dropping his head.  
  
I stood stock still, staring at him. The words he'd just said echoing through my mind. 'Cool, calm and collected.' Did he really not know that was just a front, that inside anguish was tearing me apart just as it was him? Did he really think I didn't care, that I didn't love Pa every bit as much as he did?  
  
"Of course I care." The words came out more angrily than I'd intended and Joe looked up at me, a wry grimace twisting his lips.  
  
"Well you could have fooled me." His voice was bitter.  
  
"Would you feel happier if I fell apart? Someone has to take charge, sort out the doctor, make arrangements." I heard the harshness in my tone but couldn't seem to moderate it, my stomach churning with mixed emotions as I faced my brother. "I'm the eldest, the one Pa relies on. I don't have the luxury of letting my feelings show, breaking down like you are."  
  
"I don't mean to." A flash of shame crossed Joe's face and he made a visible effort to pull himself together, straightening his shoulders and wiping the tears from his face. "It's just.God, Adam, I don't want to lose him."  
  
The terror in those hazel green eyes was obvious and just for a moment I wanted to reach out and comfort him, the way I had when he was just a little boy. But he wasn't a little boy now, he was eighteen, a grown man as he constantly reminded us, and men have to learn to bear their sorrows alone.  
  
"Neither do I." I told him softly, reaching for the cup that he'd been going to fetch and pouring coffee for us both. "Whatever you may think I do care, very much."  
  
"Do you?" His hand shook slightly as he accepted the cup I held out to him but his voice was more under control as he pulled one of the kitchen chairs from beneath the table and sat down. "Why don't you show it then?"  
  
"Show it how?" I asked him, stirring sugar into my coffee, irritation running through me at the question. Just exactly what did he expect me to do? "Would you have me wailing and crying at Pa's bedside?"  
  
As soon as the words left my mouth I longed to recall them, realising just how they would sound to the young man who faced me. "Joe, I didn't mean."  
  
"Save it." Pushing his cup abruptly aside Joe got stiffly to his feet, hurt apparent on his face. "I know exactly what you meant. But if you really care so much, Adam, go tell Pa. Tell him how much he means to you before it's too late." Turning quickly away he left me sitting alone at the kitchen table.  
  
I hadn't meant what I'd said, well not in the way he'd interpreted it, anyway. I knew Joe had a tendency to tears but I also knew how frustrated that made him, how hard he tried to control it. Pa suspected it was part of the reason the kid lost his temper so quickly, getting angry instead of tearful is less embarrassing in front of your friends.  
  
Pa, just for a moment I gave in to my feelings and buried my head in my hands as bleak despair threatened to overwhelm me. The thought of losing my father was so hard to face. The thought of a future without him, a future in which it would be up to me to hold the Ponderosa, and my brothers, together, was almost unthinkable.  
  
A brawny hand on my shoulder brought me back to the present and I looked up into Hoss' sympathetic blue eyes.  
  
"Joe with Pa?" I asked, as Hoss felt the coffee pot and, finding it still hot, hooked himself a cup from the dresser.  
  
"Yep." Pouring the brew, Hoss sank down heavily onto the chair Joe had pulled out. "He seemed angry, you two have words?"  
  
"Some." I drained my tepid coffee and poured myself a fresh cup. "I upset him, didn't mean to."  
  
"Whatever you said ain't nuthin' to what he's feelin' right now." Hoss shook his head sadly. "He's tryin' to say goodbye, but." He shrugged his massive shoulders and sighed deeply. "It's hard to do. Can't imagine this place without Pa."  
  
"I know." I got to my feet and walked over to take a look outside. Dawn was breaking, the yard looking cold and grey in the early light. "Joe accused me of not caring." I said, without turning from the window. "Do you think that as well?"  
  
"Of course not!" Hoss' denial was immediate and relief spilled through me. "Just cause you ain't the type to let your feelin's show don't mean anythin'. Pa knows how much you care about him."  
  
"Does he?" I turned to face my brother as I asked the question. "Or is Joe right and I ought to tell him how much he means to me.before it's too late."  
  
"Pa knows." Hoss said with certainty. "He knows we all love him." He smiled over at me, a sad, wistful kind of smile. "Course, it don't hurt none to tell him that."  
  
"Did you?" I asked quietly.  
  
Hoss nodded slowly. "I don't know if he heard me." He said softly. "But I sure hope he did. I didn't want him to go without me telling him." Tears pooled in his eyes as he spoke and he dashed them away impatiently. "Helped a bit, telling him how I felt."  
  
The sound of the front door slamming interrupted our conversation and both Hoss and I headed quickly for the great room.  
  
"Joe." Hoss announced pulling open the door just in time to catch a glimpse of our younger brother disappearing into the barn. "Guess saying goodbye was too much for him."  
  
"I'd better go see if he's all right." I reached for my hat, intending to go after Joe but Hoss put a hand on my arm, stopping me.  
  
"You go talk to Pa." He said soberly. "I'll see to Joe."  
  
I hesitated a moment, unsure what to do. Without Pa, Joe was my responsibility and I felt I ought to go after him but.I glanced over at the stairs.perhaps Hoss was right. He and Joe had said their goodbyes, perhaps it was time I said mine.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Pushing open the bedroom door I stepped inside the quiet room where only the sound of Pa's ragged breathing broke the silence. Standing beside the bed I laid a hand on my father's brow, feeling with a sense of resignation, the heat that emanated from him. Obviously the fever hadn't dropped at all. Rinsing a cloth in the bowl of cool water that stood on the bedside table I wrung it out and gently wiped the sweat from Pa's face before sitting down.  
  
"Pa." I studied my father's unresponsive face for a while, trying to get my thoughts under control. He looked older lying there. So still, so different to the vital man I'd known all my life, the man who had raised me. Tentatively I reached out and took his hand in mine, remembering back to my childhood. The years when it was just Pa and I, traveling west, following his dream. Later there was Inger and, after we lost her so tragically, baby Hoss. Then finding this place, settling down, building the Ponderosa. Marie, Joe.we had been through so much together, my father and I.  
  
I cleared my throat and began again. "Pa, I don't know if you can hear me, but there's something I need to tell you.."  
  
Damn! Releasing Pa's hand I stood up and walked over to the window. Down in the yard I could see Hoss and Joe standing together, talking. Hoss had an arm around Joe's shoulders, obviously trying to comfort him.  
  
Why? I wondered, why was it so easy for those two to say the words that I found so very difficult? Hoss stuttered over it, got embarrassed, but in the end he managed to say it. As for Joe, well even if he didn't exactly go around telling Pa how he felt about him, who could doubt it? The kid worshipped his father that was obvious. Just the way he looked at him sometimes told you that, never mind that Joe was always there with a hug, a touch.  
  
So why did I find it so darn difficult to show my feelings? I loved my father, loved him with all my heart so why couldn't I tell him that?  
  
Turning to return to the bed, I stopped short in shock as a glance at my father sent terror through me. Flinging open the window I yelled for my brothers.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I really thought we'd lost him, Paul." I told Doctor Martin some hours later. "He'd actually stopped breathing."  
  
"Thank the Lord you grabbed hold of him the way you did." Paul said, feeling Pa's pulse. "The movement must have shocked his system into starting up again and now the fever's broken." He looked down at his patient and smiled. "I think he's going to be all right."  
  
The relief was overwhelming and I sat down quickly on the side of the bed as I felt myself trembling at the release of the tension I'd been feeling. Glancing over at my brothers I saw that both of them were grinning widely and I knew my own expression mirrored theirs. "That's wonderful news." I said, elation beginning to take over. "You're sure he's going to be fine?"  
  
"Has he woken up at all?" Paul asked, pulling the blankets back for a closer examination.  
  
"Just for a few minutes." I looked up at him anxiously. "There's no problem, is there? He did know us when he woke, seemed lucid but a bit sleepy."  
  
"No problem." Paul reassured me. "He's just sleeping now, not unconscious. He needs plenty of rest and care, but we should see him back to normal within the month. Now." He ushered me away. "Give me a little room to examine my patient."  
  
Joining my brothers, I received a hearty slap on the back from Hoss and a beaming smile from Joe.  
  
"You saved him, Adam." Hoss said, with another hefty pat to my back. "You saved his life."  
  
"I don't know what I did." I confessed, moving out of my large brother's reach. "Must have been reflex action or something, I don't recall touching Pa at all."  
  
"You don't?" Joe looked at me with something almost like awe in his expression. "You don't know what you were doing when we got up here?"  
  
"No." I shook my head in denial. "Why? What was I doing?"  
  
"You were sitting on the bed with Pa in your arms." Joe informed me quietly. "Just holding him.and." He dropped his gaze away from mine, an embarrassed flush staining his cheeks. "You were crying."  
  
Any thoughts that Joe might have been mistaken were dismissed by a glance at Hoss who nodded in agreement. "Guess you were wrong about your big brother, Joseph." He said to Joe, nudging his arm. "Guess he does care after all."  
  
"Guess he does." Joe looked up at me and his smile told me I'd been forgiven for my comment about 'wailing and crying'. "Guess he does."  
  
As Paul finished his examination and came over to speak to Hoss and Joe, I walked back to stand beside the bed.  
  
"I love you, Pa." I whispered under my breath, looking down at my sleeping father. Perhaps one day I'd say it aloud. Tell Pa how much I really cared. I looked across at Hoss and Joe talking quietly to the doctor. Perhaps one day I'd even tell those two how much I loved them. One day.before it was too late.  
  
  
  
Three: 'To Be A Father' - In which a friend of Ben's comes to say goodbye:  
  
"Hey there, Little Joe, your Pa home?"  
  
Joe Cartwright nodded at his father's friend, Andy Johnson, and opened the door a little wider to let the man in. "Pa!" He yelled as Andy entered and stood just inside the room, distractedly twisting his hat in his hands. "Pa, Mr. Johnson to see you!"  
  
"Joseph, there is no need to shout." Ben admonished the child, coming over from his desk to greet his friend with a handshake. "I'm not deaf."  
  
"Sorry, sir." Joe apologised breezily, obviously not the least put out by the reprimand. "I thought you were upstairs."  
  
Shaking his head in exasperation, Ben turned to Andy. "What brings you to the Ponderosa?" He asked curiously, ushering the man over to the hearth. "Not often we see you out here."  
  
"I just came to say goodbye." Andy perched himself awkwardly on the arm of the couch and looked up at Ben. "You've been a good friend over the years, didn't seem right leavin' town without lettin' you know."  
  
"Leaving!" Ben exclaimed in surprise, seating himself in the red leather armchair beside the fire. "When did this happen, Andy? You never said anything when I saw you last week."  
  
"I just decided." Andy Johnson dropped his head as he spoke but not before Ben caught sight of the tears that glinted in the man's dark blue eyes. "I gotta get away from here."  
  
"Joseph." Realising that something was very wrong with Andy, Ben looked over to where his youngest son was standing by the stairs, listening. "Don't you have some homework to do?"  
  
"I don't have to do it right now." Joe protested quickly. "I was going to get round to it this evening."  
  
"I think you should get started on it." Ben told him, his voice quiet but firm, and with a resigned sigh, Joe headed up to his room.  
  
"What's the problem, Andy?" Ben asked his friend as Joe disappeared from view. "Anything I can help with?"  
  
"No." Andy shook his head slowly, brushing the tears from his eyes before he looked up. "It's Mary, Ben, she's found someone else."  
  
"She's what?" Ben was aghast. He had known Andy and his wife Mary since the couple arrived in Virginia City twelve years ago. A carpenter by trade, Andy had set up a little business in the town, a business that had thrived over the years. Mary had been expecting their first child when they arrived and she and Andy had been delighted when it turned out to be twins. A boy and a girl who Mary had named, rather fancifully many felt, Laurence and Leticia. Larry and Tish, as the twins soon became known, were the same age as Little Joe and it was through the children that Ben had come to know the Johnson's. Joe's mother, Marie, had struck up a friendship with Mary Johnson when the twins and Joe were newborns.  
  
"She's found a new feller." Andy told Ben now, running agitated fingers through his thinning brown hair. "She's carryin' his baby."  
  
"I can't believe it!" Ben was astounded; he'd though the couple were happy enough together. "How long has this been going on?"  
  
"'Bout six months." Andy said with a heavy sigh. "Told me she were visitin' poor sick old Ma. Peters and all the time she were with this.this." Words failed him as tears sprang once more to his eyes.  
  
"She's sure the baby's his?" Ben queried softly. "Couldn't it be yours?"  
  
"I cain't father no more kids." Andy confided with a touch of embarrassment. "You 'member 'bout eight years back.when Larry done got the mumps?"  
  
"I sure do." Ben told him fervently. Larry Johnson hadn't been the only child who had suffered with the illness. Both Hoss, then aged nine, and three year old Little Joe had also contracted the disease and it had meant two weeks of caring for fractious, miserable boys for Ben and Marie.  
  
"Well I got it as well." Andy said, not quite meeting his friend's eyes. "Sorta swelled up in other places, if you know what I mean." He glanced down and Ben grimaced in understanding. "After that, we tried to have another baby and when nuthin' happened Doc said the mumps had made me infer.infert."  
  
"Infertile." Ben supplied the word and Andy nodded.  
  
"I see." Ben stared into the fire for a while, lost in thought. "Has Mary told you who the man is?" He asked eventually.  
  
"Steve Wilson." Andy stated flatly. "You know him, Ben. Big shot in town, owns that real grand house out on the Carson City road. Got servants and all."  
  
"I know him." Ben affirmed. Steve Wilson was a bit of an enigma in Virginia City. A tall, dark haired, good-looking man, he'd arrived from San Francisco some ten months previously and seemed to be independently wealthy. He'd purchased the house Andy had mentioned and moved in, but he didn't seem to work and didn't mix a lot with the townsfolk. "He's a fair bit younger than Mary, isn't he?"  
  
"'Bout seven or eight years." Andy gave a bitter little laugh as he said it. "I think Mary's flattered that a younger man finds her attractive. I just ain't good enough any more, Ben. I'm too old, too fat, losin' my hair and not too wealthy either. Wilson's what she wants now."  
  
"I'm sure there's more to it than your weight and your looks." Ben protested. "I can't believe Mary would be that shallow."  
  
"Oh, she is." Andy shut his eyes as tears threatened again. "Cain't seem to stop cryin'." He apologised, dabbing at the moisture with his fingertips. "Ain't shed a tear since I was a young 'un and now I cain't stop."  
  
Waving the apology aside, Ben felt in his pocket for a handkerchief, which he handed to the distraught man. "What does Mary intend doing?" He asked sombrely.  
  
"She's gonna live with him." Andy scrubbed at his eyes before offering the handkerchief back.  
  
"Keep it." Ben said, and watched as Andy screwed the cloth into a tight ball between his hands. "Isn't Mary worried about the scandal that this will cause?"  
  
"Don't reckon she is." Andy said miserably. "Says she loves him and that she'll do anythin' to be with him. I even offered to stand by her, bring the baby up as my own, but she turned me down flat."  
  
"And the children?" Ben asked softly. "Tish and Larry. What happens to them?"  
  
"They'll stay with Mary, of course, I can't take them away from her."  
  
"You could, you know, the law will be on your side in this."  
  
"Yep, I know." Andy's mouth twisted in despair. "But how could I do that to them? They love their Ma and, anyway, everyone knows that men ain't meant to bring up young 'uns. I don't mean you." He added hastily, seeing Ben frown at his words. "You done a fine job with your boys, though it ain't as if you had any choice."  
  
"I did as it happens." Ben informed him quietly. "Adam's grandfather, Captain Stoddard, offered to help me arrange for him to be brought up by a couple he knew in Boston and one of the women in the wagon train wanted to take Hoss after Inger was killed." He smiled softly, thinking about his two eldest sons. "I'm so glad I never accepted either offer."  
  
"Thing is." Andy continued, as Ben fell silent. "I cain't stay here. I've decided to leave, go back east."  
  
"Back east?" Ben looked at his friend in surprise. "Leave Tish and Larry completely?"  
  
"I cain't face seein' them all with Steve Wilson." Andy confessed unhappily. "I just cain't do it, Ben. I cain't bear to see Mary growin' heavy with his child. Loving him when I still love her." He lowered his head into his hands, shoulders shaking as he sobbed quietly. "It's too hard."  
  
"Hard on you, I agree." Ben said sympathetically. "But think of your children. How will they feel? They'll have to deal with all the upheaval, the scandal. They don't deserve to lose their father as well."  
  
"They'll have Wilson." Andy responded quickly. "Best if they start out as a new family. Forget all about me."  
  
"No!" Ben protested. "They're your children, Andy. How can you even think of abandoning them?"  
  
"I have to." Getting heavily to his feet, Andy held out his hand. "I just came to say goodbye, Ben, and thanks for bein' such a good friend over the years."  
  
Standing up, Ben grasped the man's hand. "I wish you'd take a little more time and think this over." He said, as Andy shook hands and turned towards the door. "I really do think you're making a mistake."  
  
"Mr. Johnson?" The nervous young voice caught both men by surprise and they looked round to see Joe at the top of the stairs. "Can I talk to you?"  
  
"Joseph!" Ben frowned at his youngest in annoyance. "Have you been eavesdropping on our conversation?"  
  
Joe nodded guiltily. "I'm sorry, Pa." He apologised, doing his best to sound penitent. "I know I shouldn't have and I guess you're probably gonna punish me for it, but I really need to speak to Mr. Johnson."  
  
"Well you're right in that I will be punishing you." Ben told him sternly. "And as for talking to Mr. Johnson, that's up to him." He looked over at Andy. "What do you think?"  
  
"Sure you can speak to me, Little Joe." Andy smiled up at the boy. "What's the problem?"  
  
Coming slowly downstairs, Joe went to stand beside his father, looking over at Andy. "Are you really going away?" He asked softly. "Really leaving Larry and Tish?"  
  
"You have to understand that I don't want to." Andy explained, sitting back down on the arm of the couch. "You're a little too young to understand."  
  
"I might be too young to understand why Mrs. Johnson wants to live with Mr. Wilson." Joe interrupted, drawing a warning glance from Ben. "But I do know how the twins will feel."  
  
"They'll be upset, I know." Andy began. "But they need their moth."  
  
"They need you both!" Joe jumped in quickly. "Larry and Tish, they're always telling me about you Mr. Johnson. What a great Pa you are, how much fun they have with you. They really love you."  
  
"I know that." Andy's eyes filled with tears once more at the child's words. "But I just cain't."  
  
"Please, Mr. Johnson." Joe begged, tears in his own eyes now. "I lost my Mama, so I know what it's like to lose someone you love. My Mama died, she didn't have the choice of staying with me but you can choose. You can stay with your kids if you want."  
  
"Joe, I don't really think you can compare Mr. Johnson leaving with your Mama dying." Ben put a hand on his son's shoulder and gave the boy a comforting pat. "Larry and Tish will still have a Pa."  
  
"It is the same." Joe insisted looking from his father to Andy. "Fact is for the twins it'll be worse. Least I know my Mama didn't want to leave me, can't come back and see me. Larry and Tish might not see their Pa again and they'll know it was his choice to go."  
  
"I love my kids, Little Joe." Andy said angrily, standing up again. "I didn't want this to happen."  
  
"The twins didn't ask for this to happen either." Joe said quietly. "They love their Ma and they love you. They don't want to lose either of you."  
  
"I think Joe's right." Ben put in, smiling down at his son. "If you leave them now I don't think you'll ever forgive yourself. It'll be hard seeing them with Steve, seeing the new baby, but I think it'll be harder never seeing your children again."  
  
"I guess." Andy looked down at the floor, then up at Ben. "Perhaps you're right, perhaps I'm deciding this too quickly. Guess I should take a while, see how things go."  
  
"I think that's a pretty good idea." Ben told him. "And just remember, Andy, you've got friends in Virginia City and here on the Ponderosa. If you need to talk, need any help, I'm always here."  
  
"Thanks, Ben." Andy managed a watery smile as he reached for his hat and put it on. "I ain't sayin' I'll stay but I will give it some more thought, and some more time and I think." He looked down at Joe. "I'll have a talk with the twins and see how they feel."  
  
"I hope you reach the decision that's right for you and for them." Ben told him, leaving Joe's side and going to show his friend to the door. "Let me know what happens."  
  
"I will." Andy assured him, shaking hands again before leaving.  
  
"You gonna punish me now, Pa?" Joe asked with trepidation as Ben closed the door behind Andy. "I am sorry, honest."  
  
"I think we might let the punishment be doing that homework you were sent to do." Ben told him with a twinkle in his dark brown eyes. "What you did was wrong, Joseph, but I think you may just have got through to Mr. Johnson where I couldn't."  
  
"You think he'll stay?" Joe sat down on the edge of the table, relieved to be let off so lightly. "I sure hope so."  
  
"I don't know, son." Ben came to sit beside Joe, putting his arm around the boy in a hug. "But if he does I think you'll have had a lot to do with it. Now get along and do that homework."  
  
As Joe headed upstairs Ben watched him go, hoping that Andy would stay in town to watch his children grow and that Tish and Larry would always know their father.  
  
  
  
A Little Bonus: A Bonanza Drabble, a story in exactly 100 words including the title:  
  
  
  
THE VIGIL  
  
Sitting in the armchair, eyes fixed on the door.  
  
It's late, where is he?  
  
Trying to banish the worry.  
  
He's old enough to look after himself  
  
But there are so many dangers in this wild land.  
  
Indians, wolves, or trouble in town, gunmen on the trail  
  
  
  
What if he never comes home? How could I bear it?  
  
Sounds outside, whinny of a horse, creak of the stable door.  
  
I scramble from the chair, running to greet him.  
  
Strong hands hold me; swing me high in the air.  
  
Waiting up for me, Joseph?" he says.  
  
My Pa is home.  
  
  
  
© Kathleen Pitts. May, 2002. 


End file.
